Stones on the wall
by Gothicruby
Summary: People can be underestimated, they can be either like dust or stone...but Manic happens to notice how each of these need each other when his brother is hurt....


Stones on the wall...

**Sonic's POV:**

It's not fair...it's just totally unfair, why am I always the one hurt? Why do I always have to walk into school and face this sort of torment just to satisfy their sick pleasure?

I'm always forced to hide in here...the peaceful but unsettling broom closet...it's quiet...and I know I'm safe here, but at the same time, I'm scared of this place sometimes moreso than those bullies out there. I'm scared of the darkness in here sometimes, the very solitude that keeps me safe also just...alienates...me moreso, that's how Sonia said it anyway.

The cold, concrete bricks...they conseal me...keep my sobs hidden, keep me safe but at the same time...the thought of just being forgotten completely scares me so much...like...if I were to just spend days on end in here, chances are nobody would find me unless they really came looking for me...

...they never would come looking for me...they don't care about me...I'm just a punching bag to them...nobody cares enough to come looking for me, they'd be happy if I just spent the rest of my life here...trapped within the prison I cry myself to sleep over each and every night, nobody cares if I die here...

I feel myself sobbing worse at that thought...that truth...that I could just as easilly be forgotten as the dust under the table next to me, so easilly swept away. As weak as anything ever known; and so minimalistic, nobody ever notices dust...nobody cares for just dust...

Through the tears I can see the cold, hard concrete of the stone keeping me so 'safe', I sniffle...weakly pressing my gloved hand to the building's interior, leaning my weight onto it fully, I don't mind when the dust from the stone gets onto my face, hell, I suppose I am dust in a sense, just weak, nimble dust...my salty tears mix in with the cold air in the room, sending me into a darker crying spiral. I don't notice anything right now, I don't notice the door opening softly, I don't notice a familiar presence looming over me...I don't notice, until the presence makes itself known...

"H-Huh?" I gasp out, looking up with frightened, shimmering eyes, I can feel the tears over-lapping and streaming down my cheeks "M-Manic..." I whimper, calming a little when my big brother shushes me gently, kneeling down to my level to wipe away the tears that have long since clung to and mussed the fur on my cheeks.

"Hey there..." he whispers to me, he doesn't show it directly, but I can see the concern gleaming in his eyes, those hypnotisingly ice-cold blue eyes, ever watching, ever filled with emotion "it's happened again, hasn't it?" he asks me, gently lifting me up into the secure embrace of his arms.

I look away, sniffling and whimpering with a nod

"g-got off easilly th-this time..." I sniffle, "I-I ran...I-I slipped out and ran here..."

"so this is where you've been hiding?" he asks softly, holding me closer to him, causing me to cry a little more with a nod

"y-yeah, I-I always do..." that's me alright, the little hider, the former runt of the litter, yeah, that's me in a nutshell. I sob a little more, holding myself closer to Manic, clinging desperately to him as if it where the only thing keeping me sane right now.

I don't know how long I've been crying now, I lost all track of time again. The only thing coaxing me out of my fit is my brother's gentle carressing of my back, he's soothing me, trying to calm me down...

I sniffle, looking up at him...my tearful, dusty brown eyes staring into his cold blue ones

"Ok now?" he asks me gently, petting my back lovingly still. I shake my head

"n-no..." I let a small sob go "I-I can't do anything...I-I just hide in here..." tears run down my cheeks, small sobs escaping my lungs "dust...I-I'm just dust...ju-just as useless...just as-just as easilly forgotten..." I trail off in a quiet crying spiral,

"Dust, huh?" he asks after a small period of silence, wandering over to the very wall I was sitting against before he found me "Dust...this dust? Against the wall?" he asks rehtorically, swiping a finger against a brick as he sets me down on the ground.

I sniffle and nod with a shrug "I-I guess..."

"hmm...funny...there's so much people don't see in dust," he starts off in that familiar, spiritual tone I'm so used to hearing around him, "they only see it when it falls from the stone, only care to sweep it away...to others, dust is just what fell from the stone," he pauses, picking me up again, holding me closely. What is he getting at?...I don't understand..."but what they don't see, is that dust never does seem to get far away from the stone,"

"what do you mean?" I sniffle, watching his finger trace against the stone

"I mean, dust doesn't get far, it just lingers by where it fell, sometimes it clings, and sometimes, it adapts itself so well, that before you know it...dust is stone again..." he smiles gently at me, wiping more of my tears away "Like you Sonic...you might feel like dust right now, but as long as you have me here with you, you will be stone again, I promise," he kisses my forehead as I just continue to look wonderously at him. Sniffling, I mimick him in his sweeping of the dust, revealing some more actually embedded in the stone of the bricks

"I thought dust was weakness..." I quietly mumble

"Dust can be alot of things..." my brother carries on, looking at me lovingly, emotional pain glistening in his eyes "dust can be weakness...or it can be...feelings..." he sighs "feelings of pain...pain of memories lingering within the past..." he sighs again, shaking his head to clear his thoughts "Either way, little brother...never forget; every stone will always have it's dust, likewise to the dust, always needing a stone to cling onto." he finishes with a nod, turning away from the wall, carrying me out.

My vision is transfixed onto that wall, his words lingering in my mind as my tears dry...it's now I realize, that my big brother and I are much closer than we'd ever have known, like dust always has it's stone...I'll always have my Manic...

_the end_


End file.
